Chapter 59: Daughter-in-law

Whenever I was with Chi Yun, it was always a wild, unrestrained rush of passion—satisfaction radiated from my bones to my pores. Yet this was the first time we’d stopped halfway, and she wept over the scars that covered my body, tears streaming down her face like blossoms in the rain.

I hadn’t taken off my shirt, worried she’d see, but midway through she lifted it, and that’s how it happened. Though the wounds had healed, my body couldn’t possibly recover quickly enough for the scars to vanish—they stood out, fresh and red, like fierce little snakes, terrifying to behold.

“What are you doing, getting yourself hurt like this? One day you might die and I wouldn’t even know,” Chi Yun sobbed. I’d never seen her cry before; she was always strong, whether at work or in life, and even in bed she refused to surrender. Now she was crying like a delicate woman, and I was both moved and aching for her.

“It’s nothing, just superficial wounds. See how lively I still am?” I reached out to wipe the tears from her cheeks. Suddenly, she grabbed my hand and bit down, hard.

I inhaled sharply, but didn’t pull away. Chi Yun released her bite, glaring at the mark she’d left. “I want a sign. Even if you die, you’re not allowed to forget me,” she said fiercely.

Women’s hearts are truly mysterious. I call myself a master of love, but even I can’t always fathom what women are thinking. Just moments ago she was worried about my wounds, and now she’d added another.

She cupped my hand, kissed the bite mark, then pressed me down and kissed every scar on my body, one by one.

The flames of passion rekindled.

The next morning, I left a gentle kiss on Chi Yun’s sleeping forehead before quietly dressing. Just as I was about to leave, her voice floated softly from behind. “Will you come back?”

“I will,” I answered quietly, without turning.

“When?”

“I don’t know,” I said, and stepped out. As I closed the door, I heard her sobbing inside.

…

Snake Ancient Town lies more than forty kilometers from Linjiang’s city center. The town boasts many well-preserved, distinctive ancient buildings, and its people are deeply traditional.

There’s a popular rhyme in Linjiang: “Don’t marry a Snake Ancient man; marry a Snake Ancient woman.” The meaning is clear—men from Snake Ancient Town are notorious for their domineering ways and strict rules for women.

The women, meanwhile, are brought up with deeply traditional values. In this age when even young girls are matched for marriage as early as elementary school, most women from Snake Ancient Town still preserve their virginity until wedlock.

Here, parental orders and matchmaking still hold sway. The town’s most notorious incident happened five years ago, when a woman suspected of infidelity was plunged into a pig cage. That was when I’d just started at Linjiang Medical University.

After the media reported it, the whole nation’s attention turned to this place. Snake Ancient Town was condemned, and thousands of women marched in protest—hundreds of my university’s seniors joined them.

Now the uproar has faded, the town is peaceful again, and views have improved somewhat, but matching the openness of the cities will take time.

At this moment, outside Li Family Village in Snake Ancient Town, I stood in camouflage, travel bag in hand, looking travel-worn.

At the village entrance, a fresh-faced young wife carrying her baby, less than a year old, passed by and glanced at me several times. I flashed her a broad smile, and she immediately spat at the ground, blushing as she turned to leave.

“Haijing,” I called.

She paused, turned back, and looked me over, her gaze growing more familiar, though she couldn’t recall where she’d seen me.

“You don’t remember me? I’m Li Yan,” I said excitedly. In truth, I had memorized every person in Li Family Village—who I’d met before, who I was close to, who less so.

Recognition dawned on Li Haijing’s face. She exclaimed in surprise, stepped forward with her child, and looked me over, delighted. “Li Huohuo, it really is you, you rascal! It’s been over ten years—I barely recognize you. Where have you been all these years?”

Her voice choked up. She was, by genealogy, Li Yan’s cousin—third generation blood kin, their grandfathers were brothers. As children, we’d played together; back then, everyone called me Li Huohuo.

“I went to study medicine, joined the international medical relief team. By the way, Haijing, didn’t you say you’d marry me when we were little? How come you’ve had a child already?” I teased.

“Get lost! How dare you joke with your cousin. Come, let’s go home—your Aunt Five’s been worrying herself sick,” Haijing said, pulling me along by the hand, baby in the other arm.

Aunt Five was actually Li Yan’s real aunt. After my parents died, my uncle and aunt took me in. But not even a month had passed before I’d run away.

Just then, two young men emerged from a side lane. Seeing Haijing holding my hand, their faces changed dramatically.

“You little bastard, how dare you come to Li Family Village and flirt with women!” one shouted—a tall, burly youth, nearly two meters, his face brutish. He charged, swinging an uppercut at my chin.

His punch cut through the air; he had some skill. I grabbed his wrist, twisted, and kicked his armpit, then spun and lashed him with a roundhouse kick, sending him flying.

The other, short and stout, rushed at me, roaring. I sidestepped, grabbed his collar, and slapped both ears—he reeled, nearly collapsing.

“Stop! Li Huohuo, let it go!” Haijing cried anxiously.

I shrugged and stepped aside. The tall youth, picking himself up, heard Haijing call my name and stared, then shouted, “Damn! Li Huohuo, it really is you! When did you get so tough? I used to beat you with one hand!”

Seeing I hadn’t recognized him yet, he quickly said, “I’m Li Dong, you all used to call me Straw.”

“Straw! Damn, you’ve grown ugly,” I laughed, embracing him. Truth be told, I knew nothing of Li Yan’s childhood, but acting is my specialty.

“Li Huohuo, do you remember me?” the short, fat youth asked excitedly.

“Winter Melon, you’re still the same coward,” I said, grinning. His real name was Li Chunsheng, nickname Winter Melon—all in the dossier.

We joked and walked toward the village together. Along the way, villagers watched us, and these three broadcast my return everywhere.

Mention Li Yan, and everyone knows—some elders even came over to berate me, lightly slapping me as they scolded.

Their feelings were genuine.

We reached an old courtyard, where a grey-haired woman wearing an apron rushed out.

“Aunt,” I called, recognizing her instantly as Li Yan’s real aunt. I hurried forward and knelt before her—on Li Yan’s behalf.

Her eyesight was poor; it was said she wept daily after Li Yan disappeared, blaming herself for failing her late brother and sister-in-law. Her vision worsened, and now she could only make out vague shapes.

She trembled with emotion, groped my face, then hugged my head and broke down in tears.

“You heartless child, how could you leave for ten years? We thought you’d died somewhere,” she sobbed and scolded.

My own heart ached, thinking of my deceased parents. I couldn’t help but weep.

Villagers gathered around, eyes red, sharing the sorrow. Especially Winter Melon—he was a mess of tears and snot.

After a long while, Aunt calmed herself and hurriedly pulled me up. “You’re back, that’s all that matters. Yan, come, let’s go to the ancestral hall and pay respects, then set off some firecrackers.”

“I’ll buy the firecrackers!” Li Dong shouted, running to the village shop.

At the ancestral hall, the most respected elder and some village elders appeared. I greeted them respectfully.

Seeing I could call out their identities, they stroked their beards and nodded.

“Li Yan, you’ve been gone for ten years. Do you still have your clan token?” the elder asked.

I reached into my collar and took out a peachwood plaque on a black cord, inscribed with my birth details and clan name.

The clan name: Li Runyu, of the Run generation.

Seeing the plaque, everyone was convinced—no doubt, I was Li Yan, missing for years.

I performed the rites in the ancestral hall, set off firecrackers outside, and Li Yan’s return was officially announced.

They asked about my years away, and I recited the story from the dossier—international medical team, which impressed everyone.

Li Family Village is a traditional martial arts village; all the men practice from childhood, and medicine and martial arts are closely linked.

Hearing I’d easily bested Li Dong and Li Chunsheng, their eyes grew even more eager.

Among the village’s young men, none had managed to make a real mark; to them, I was clearly the most promising.

Just then, Winter Melon waddled over, grinning. “Li Huohuo, your wife heard you’re back and is already on her way!”

“What?” I was stunned. Wife? How could I have a wife? Li Yan left at ten—how could he possibly have one?

“Damn, Li Huohuo, you haven’t got someone out there, have you?” Li Dong shouted.

“Of course not,” I replied.

“That’s good. You’re just in time—if you’d come a year later, according to the agreement, she’d have to marry someone else,” Li Dong said.

What on earth? My mind was in turmoil.